Tortured Expression
by tastybitsODP
Summary: Not fluff, some romance between S.Reid and O.C. and D. Morgan and O.C. Contains violence and some sexual content. Reid and Morgan have trouble being professional after saving a beautiful woman from a sexual sadist, competition ensues! Reviews equal love!
1. Chapter 1 Reid's POV

Reid

It was Spencer Reid's day off. He stood in his living room, looking at the practically empty room. If he were profiling himself from this room he would say that he barely lived there, and he would be right. What should he do with his free time? His only friends had either long ago lost touch with him or worked with him. He knew he couldn't call his friends from work. He saw them every day; he couldn't expect them to spend time with him after hours. The only thing in the room that showed he lived there was the bookcase, which took up three of the walls. He scanned the titles, knowing he'd already read every one of them, and that if he picked one to read it would only entertain him for an hour at most, since he could read about a hundred times as fast as anyone else he knew.

He turned and went back into his bedroom. His desk took up one corner, and again it was the only thing in the room that showed someone lived in it. It was piled with folders, papers, and newspaper articles. They were all work-related of course. He glanced longingly at the unfinished paperwork, dying to engage his mind by working on it. However, he'd promised JJ that he wouldn't do anything work-related on his day off. Quickly, he counted the minutes until he could work again, and then wished he hadn't. 1227 minutes were left until he had to leave for work the next morning.

He knew his coworkers liked to escape from the horrific things they saw every day at the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI, which worked to stop serial killers, rapists, and kidnappers. He had seen so many things he wished he hadn't and knew so many names of people he couldn't save. His coworkers escaped from work to forget about them. He just worked harder. They each had different ways to cope. Hotchner and JJ had their families. Prentiss had her many hobbies. Garcia had her computers, and Morgan had his women. He, however, had none of those things. His only family was his mother, who was currently living in an assisted-living facility in Las Vegas, far away from him in Quantico, Virginia. He couldn't work with computers at all. He had no desire to learn because he felt disloyal to his books every time he was forced to use one. He had no hobbies, other than reading. Activities such as collecting things, book groups, and online gaming bored him. Other activities like sports terrified him. And as for women, he hadn't had a date in what seemed like years. He didn't go out of his way to meet women and therefore only saw women at work, who were either undesirable or off-limits. He told himself that he was too busy and his work too morbid to have a woman in his life, and this argument seemed valid to him most of the time, when he was at work. It was days like this that made him question his bachelorhood.

He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, but it was mostly empty. His diet mostly consisted of take-out delivered to the office or nothing at all when he was focused on a case. He closed the door in resignation, and tried to imagine what it would be like to have a girlfriend living with him. The rooms would have personality, the fridge would have food in it, the kitchen might actually be used, and of course if a woman were living with him she'd be sleeping with him… His cheeks burned at the thought, even though it was his own. However he couldn't help but think about how nice it would be…except he would never be home. He realized with some disappointment that even if it came to pass, that situation would never last. Women, curiously, desired the presence of their significant other. His line of work wouldn't allow it. Look at Rossi and Hotchner for example. Rossi had been married three times and divorced three times and now had given up all together. Hotchner's wife had left him because she felt neglected. The most logical solution was Morgan's strategy. He never committed to women; he just spent the night with one woman and then moved on to another. Somehow, though, he couldn't see himself doing this. He sighed and looked at his watch. Two minutes used up depressing himself. At least that was two minutes he wasn't completely bored.

Suddenly, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Heart racing, he pulled it out quickly and punched the button as he pressed it eagerly to his ear.

"Reid," he barked, hoping he sounded calm and appropriately annoyed at being bothered on his day off. He could never get his tone quite right.

"Hey Spence," said JJ, sounding both tense and a little excited. "We have a case. I need you to come in right away. Bring your go-bag. And…I'm sorry to bother you on your day off." Reid snapped his phone closed, the good-bye implied. True BAU agents didn't waste time on pleasantries. Reid smiled as he grabbed his keys and go-bag, which were waiting by the door. _Time to go home,_ he thought.


	2. Chapter 2 Morgan's POV

Morgan

Derek Morgan opened his eyes and realized the girl he'd picked up the night before was still sleeping beside him. His eyes travelled over her body, which was partly covered by his sheet. She was a hot piece all-right, but he had hoped she would leave once the alcohol and sex wore off. She stirred in her sleep and turned, smiling at him sleepily.

"Hey Baby," she said silkily. "Want me to cook you breakfast?" Temptation and annoyance flickered through him. While he would love to let her, he knew that a clingy girl was the last thing he needed right now. Too bad it was kind of what he wanted. She got out of the bed and he watched her stretch appreciatively. She looked over her shoulder, saw him watching and smiled flirtatiously. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, sliding his legs off the bed.

"Sweetheart, I'm afraid you can't stay," he said regretfully as he pulled on some boxers. "I have a lot to do today." The blonde pouted prettily.

"Will you call me?" she asked. Morgan debated inwardly. Should he tell her the truth or string her along? The honorable side won out.

"Probably not," he said and her mouth dropped open. "Listen, last night was great, but I didn't really intend for it to last for more than one night. Sorry." She scoffed, gave him an outraged look, grabbed her slutty clothes and left. Sighing in relief, Morgan finished getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans and headed to the kitchen to get some food. Random sex with gorgeous women made him hungry. As he drank some orange juice straight from the jug, his cell vibrated on the counter. He quickly strode across the room and snatched up the phone.

"Morgan," he said. He listened quietly to JJ on the receiver. "Fine I'll be right there." He shoved on his dark glasses, grabbed his go-bag and headed out to his sport's car. He was in one way a bit relieved to be called in. He didn't know what he was going to do with the rest of his day. He would probably end up going back to the bar or a club and picking up another woman, maybe two. Then afterwards he'd feel guilty and start drinking. It was probably better for everyone all around.

He strode into the BAU conference room like he owned it and plopped down in a chair. Reid was already there, as was Hotchner. Garcia popped her head in the room. Like always, his mood brightened with her presence.

"Hey chocolate-covered hot stuff," she said with a flirty smile. "What did you do with your fifteen hours off?" Morgan chuckled.

"Oh, you'd probably disapprove Baby Girl," he said smiling.

"Have you been cheating on me again?" she said in a mock-scolding tone. "At least you always come back to me."

"And I always will," he said sincerely as Hotchner, Prentiss, Rossi, and JJ entered the room together. Garcia waved and then left, going back to the privacy of her office. Morgan wished he could go with her. JJ snapped on the screen which she used to brief the unit.

"Hey everyone," she said, sighing. "Sorry to call you all in but it's urgent." She pressed a button on her remote and the faces of five pretty young women smiled at them. She pressed another one and now there were four dead girls on the screen, matching the women from the previous pictures. "These four bodies were found buried in various remote areas of a small college town in Downeast Maine. All four of these victims were from the surrounding area. The fifth victim," A smiling picture of a pretty young woman with reddish hair flashed on the screen. "Paige Stewart was reported missing a few hours ago. She fits the victimology and the local PD is asking for our help." Morgan looked at the girl's picture. She was pretty, and young, probably around 21 or so. Something about her eyes made him stare, he didn't know what. She looked like a nice girl, but the curve of her smile betrayed mischievousness. Her face was very easy to read. He could almost profile her from the picture alone.

"What connects the victims?" asked Reid. "They don't look similar."

"The first four are all in their early twenties from the surrounding small towns of the county from where Paige was taken. They were all preparing to travel, which is why there was a delay of missing-person reports."

"That could also mean that the unsub was watching his victims before he took them," said Rossi. "He would have to be stalking them to know they were travelling." JJ nodded.

"He's probably local," said Prentiss. "You said all the victims are from the same area?"

"Except Paige," said JJ. "She's originally from the Portland area, that's Southern Maine. She's a college student."

"How are the victims killed?" asked Hotchner.

"They're abducted, tortured all over except for their faces, and then wrists slit until they bleed to death."

"Why not their faces?" asked Prentiss.

"He either doesn't focus on their faces because they don't matter to him or because he wants them to be identified," said Morgan. "My guess is that his main focus is on the bodies of the victims. He doesn't see them as people. An unsub with this level of sadism doesn't usually care about whether or not the victims are identified."

"Let's get on the plane," said Hotchner. "We don't want to waste a minute. We'll finish brainstorming on the jet." JJ gave each team member a copy of the case file. Morgan opened it and looked at Paige's picture again. Something about her made him pause. She wasn't just another face on the victim board. She was different somehow.

"Hold on, Paige," he murmured. "I'm on my way to save you."


	3. Chapter 3 Paige's POV

Paige (twelve hours earlier)

I shoved my books in my bag and left the library feeling uplifted. I'd finally finished my paper, and in my opinion it had turned out to be a good one. The only downside was that it was two-thirty in the morning, and I was driving home to Portland, a five hour drive, in the morning. I sighed and stepped out of the library into the frigid empty campus. Most students had already gone home, but I had needed to finish my final paper before I went home. Cautiously, I looked across the campus. It was practically empty except for one black minivan parked by the walking path. I tried not to be concerned. It was probably just someone who was attending a party or something, and had parked there for convenience. I knew I could call someone to walk with me, but it was so late, I didn't want to be trouble.

I slung my bag up further on my shoulder and started to walk quickly back to my dorm. As soon as my head hit the pillow couldn't come soon enough. I winced as I thought about the next problem on my agenda of things to worry about. I had told my parents my boyfriend was coming home with me for Thanksgiving…but we had broken up two weeks ago, and I had yet to tell my parents. They had been so excited to meet him. It seemed like no matter how successful I was academically, they weren't truly happy unless I had a boyfriend. I think it made them feel like I wasn't a complete failure socially, even though most of the time I was.

I glanced nervously at the black van. It was probably empty I reasoned. No one was stalking me…it was all in my imagination. Probably. I had seen that black van before around campus. It was probably someone that lived on campus or took classes there. Regardless I walked like I was trying to burn calories and made it almost to the first building. I glanced over my shoulder. The black van was far away now. I breathed easier. I turned back to look where I was going and slammed into something warm and firm. Large hands steadied me as I almost fell over.

"Whoa!" said the guy. "You okay? Sorry I scared you." Head reeling and heart slamming against my chest from the scare, I tried to catch my breath.

"Oh that's okay," I said quickly. "Did I hurt you when I walked into you?" He shook his head, smiling. "Sorry," I said and tried to move around him. He blocked my path. "Excuse me," I said politely and shakily and tried again to get around him. He stopped me by putting his hands on my shoulders and pulling me close. I could smell alcohol on his breath and he leered at me, one hand already travelling toward my chest.

"Let's go back to my room," he said. "I promise you'll enjoy it." He bent his head to kiss me and I squirmed, trying to get away. He laughed as I pushed him frantically and he just held on tighter. I was starting to panic. He was very strong and at this point I wasn't sure I could get away. I looked around trying to see if anyone could help me. There was no one. Too late, I realized he was maneuvering me sideways into a patch of trees. I fought him harder, but at no use. I screamed, loud and long but was silenced by an iron hand over my mouth. I bit down on his hand as hard as I could, and his he released my mouth with a yell of pain.

"Help!" I screamed, and suddenly help arrived.

"Hey!" yelled a man's voice. "What are you doing? Let her go!" The drunken boy let me go and ran away. I slouched against a nearby tree and took a couple deep breaths, trying to slow my frantically beating heart. "Are you okay?" asked the man, looking into my face. I nodded, still unable to speak. "Let me help you up," he said and grasped my arm, pulling me to my feet.

"Thank you so much," I said finally. "You saved me. Thank goodness you came along just then."

"Yeah," he said and I looked up concerned. His voice had turned from worried and helpful to coarse and mean. I watched, disbelieving as he pulled out a syringe. "Thank goodness I came along just now."

"What…" I stuttered. A sharp needle jabbed my neck, and suddenly things started to go dark. I staggered and he caught me. My eyelids fluttered and my eyes rolled. My vision tunneled and as I lost consciousness I heard him laugh to himself.


	4. Chapter 4 Reid's POV

Reid

At the police station in Downeast Maine Reid studied the pictures of the bodies of the dead victims. Not for the first time, he wished he had the actual bodies to look at. The pictures showed a strange pattern, one that he was afraid to misinterpret. If he told the others his theory it could change the whole profile they'd been constructing. Rossi thumped into a chair across the table from him, and Morgan sat on his right.

"What are you thinking Reid?" asked Rossi. "You'll think better if you put it into words." Reid cleared his throat.

"I've noticed something strange about the wounds on the bodies, especially the fatal wrist wounds. Each wound is a mirror image of the one opposite it."

"What does that mean?" asked Morgan, obviously baffled. "That our unsub likes symmetry?" Reid fought the urge to chuckle. Prentiss joined them and sat on the edge of the table, listening.

"I don't think so," said Reid. "Some of the random wounds on the body were asymmetrical, deep, straight cuts, probably made with a knife. I believe those wounds were caused by the unsub. The rest were shallower, hesitant and done with a shaky hand. Each wound with this pattern has a sister wound on the opposite side of the body. These wounds are exactly the same, except they're mirror images. I think that these wounds were self-inflicted. I think they were forced to hurt themselves." Complete silence followed his statement. This was a section of brutality they hadn't really encountered before.

"What about these wounds?" asked Prentiss. She held up a picture of the fourth victim's back which looked like it was covered in hundreds of tiny ripped puncture wounds. Reid furrowed his brow and studied it. It wasn't a picture he'd looked at yet.

"It looks like the victim was punctured with nails," he said, his stomach tightening.

"How?" asked Rossi. "They are all in straight rows. Do you think he put the nails in her back one by one?"

"No," said Reid. "I think he put them through a board first and then used the board to injure her back. At first I thought he hit them with it, but now I can see that the wounds were caused by gradual pressure. I think they had to lay on it." Stunned silence followed his words again.

"What caused the tearing of wounds?" asked Rossi. "If you look at them, it looks like they were punctured, and then the skin was torn to create a rip in the skin."

"It looks like once they lay on the boards the unsub moved their bodies back and forth on the nails, increasing the wound size. But why would he do that?" asked Reid. Morgan took the picture from Prentiss and stared at it, his face becoming visibly paler.

"He raped them," said Morgan. "He would lay them down on boards of nails and then rape them." Reid's stomach flipped and clenched. "A sexual sadist," murmured Morgan. Reid suddenly thought of something.

"When was the first body found?" he asked.

"June 6th of this year," said Prentiss.

"When was she reported missing?" asked Reid.

"May fourteenth," she read. "But there was a delay in the report. She had told her family she was going on vacation with her friends so her family didn't realize she was missing for at least a week after her abduction."

"All the bodies were left in high traffic places where they would be found right away. So we can assume that they were disposed of very soon after death," said Reid, thinking out loud. "So the unsub kept his victims for at least a month. Some of the wounds on the bodies were partially healed. I think the unsub keeps his victims alive for the whole month. That means that if we work quickly we may find Paige Stewart alive."

"I'll talk to JJ," said Rossi. "We can't do a press conference about this one. If the killer thinks we're onto him then he may dispose of her quicker than we can find her." He strode away purposefully.

"I also noticed rope burns and shackle marks on the victims," added Reid. "That means he keeps them confined. This usually indicates that the unsub doesn't keep constant watch on his victim. He may leave them alone for periods of time. Based on the geographical profile the unsub probably lives in one of the surrounding towns, so he would need to keep her quiet somehow so his neighbors don't hear her. That indicates either drugs or extreme intimidation."

"Let me get this straight," said Morgan. "This guy is a sadist who rapes his victims repeatedly, at least once on a bed of nails. He forces his victims to cut themselves with a knife and eventually to slit their own wrists. We're dealing with a guy that can not only physically torture his victims, but emotionally torture them as well. As far as we know none of his victims have escaped, and he keeps his neighbors from hearing."

"What can we infer from that?" asked Prentiss.

"Statistically, lethal sexual sadists are diagnosed with anti-social personality disorder. This could be caused by anything like brain injury, schizophrenia or other mental disorders. The fantasies that these sadists enact are usually repressed desires the killer has had their entire lives and are now getting the chance to act them out. These killers probably started out small, such as accessing hardcore pornography on the internet or getting too rough with a consenting partner. We should talk to Garcia and see if there is a pattern of these behaviors in the area."

"I got it," said Morgan, flipping open his phone and striding away.

"Thanks Reid," said Prentiss. "I'll go talk to Rossi about constructing a definite profile."


	5. Chapter 5 Morgan's POV

Morgan

He flipped open his phone and walked away from the group, dialing Garcia's number from memory. She answered on the first ring.

"Speak, young one," said Garcia, "and your master will hear you."

"Hey, baby girl," said Morgan. "I need some of your masterful skills."

"Oh, sugar trust me if I started talking about my masterful skills the rating of this conversation would be triple X," she purred. Morgan laughed. "Be more specific."

"I need you to look at the college town and the surrounding little towns and give me the names of every man with a record. Specifically mention anyone who was caught accessing hardcore porn or roughed up a girlfriend or a prostitute during sex." Morgan listened with amusement to manic typing he could hear on the other end.

"I got over thirty," said Garcia. "Help me shave it down?"

"This guy would live alone," said Morgan. "And he's probably unemployed because he stalks his victims. He would need time during the day."

"I'll weed out anyone with a wife and anyone with a day job," summarized Garcia. The mad typing ensued. "I've got fifteen. Anything else I can use?"

"He picks young victims, between eighteen and twenty-five. This unsub is probably between twenty-five and thirty."

"Okay give me a second," said Garcia. Morgan could hear the tapping of the keyboard once again. "We've narrowed it down to ten." Morgan was surprised. It seemed that there was a high rate of young people committing these crimes. "Should I give you the addresses for all of them?" she asked.

"Yes, please," said Morgan. Garcia chuckled.

"Ask me really nice," she simmered. Morgan gave a fake sigh of resignation.

"Oh, Penelope, goddess of the internet, mistress of the keyboard and the only woman I love: please oh please grant me the wonders that you have discovered," said Morgan softly into the phone, hoping no one would overhear him. Too late, a secretary passing by looked at him with an expression of confusion. He smiled at her and she walked away, obviously creeped out.

"Wow," said Garcia. "Did you come up with that on the spot? No wonder all the women flock to you!"

"Somehow I don't think that's the reason," said Morgan. Garcia laughed.

"No, probably not," Garcia agreed. "I'm sending you the addresses now."

"You're amazing, baby girl," said Morgan.

"Oh sweetheart you have no idea," laughed Garcia. Morgan laughed and hung up. He walked back into the police station's conference room where the others were still talking.

"Garcia is sending us addresses of ten guys that fit the profile," said Morgan. Hotchner had joined the group and his intense unblinking eyes settled on Morgan.

"Rossi, Prentiss, I want the both of you to start interviewing the men on our list. Morgan, Reid, I want you to go to the college and try and figure out how the victim was abducted. See if you can piece together her last movements. Once you've done that you can take the remaining men on the list." The team gathered up their coats before heading out to the borrowed vehicles. It was November and it was about thirty degrees cooler this far north than the Virginia weather they were all used to. Morgan and Reid got in the same vehicle and Morgan pulled out of the driveway, headed for the college.

"I don't understand why I have to go with you to the college," said Reid moodily. "I'd be of better use back at the station." Morgan chuckled.

"You're just mad because Hotchner is making you talk to women your age," said Morgan. "Maybe he thinks they'll open up to you because you're in the same age group." Morgan thought that Reid's face made rain clouds look cheerful.

"People my age don't relate to me at all," murmured Reid.

"Not many people relate to you," said Morgan. "Think about it. You're a young FBI special agent with an IQ not measurable by normal tests. You can read at the rate of a thousand words per minute, and I've never been able to ask you a question you didn't know the answer to. There aren't many people in the world like you." Reid nodded sullenly. "The ladies dig that you know," said Morgan. Reid's head snapped up.

"What? They do?" Morgan wanted to laugh at how surprised Reid was and how hard he was trying to hide how eager he was.

"Women dig the guys who are loners and keep to themselves. They like mysterious men. They think of them as a puzzle only they can figure out."

"You think women will try to…figure me out?" asked Reid. Morgan nodded.

"The trick is not to reveal your inner secrets too soon, otherwise they'll get bored before they can fall in love with you."

"But…" Reid was confused. "I don't have any inner secrets."

"You'll be surprised at what women consider to be secrets," laughed Morgan. Reid just continued to look baffled and kept his eyes on the case file on his lap. They arrived at the college and the two agents went to the front desk of the dormitory.

"We are here to talk to anyone who knows Paige Stewart," said Morgan authoritatively the scrawny boy behind the counter. He and Reid showed their badges.

"Everyone knows Paige," said the boy. "This is a small school. Everyone knows everyone."

"Can you tell us the names of the people who knew her the best?" asked Morgan. The boy wrote down some names and Reid took the slip of paper.

"Most of them have gone home for the break," said the boy. "But I'm pretty sure her ex-boyfriend Josh is still here." The two agents thanked him and headed for the room the boy behind the counter had indicated. It took them a couple of wrong turns before they found it, the rooms were numbered in a strange way. When they finally found the room, Morgan knocked. A young man answered.

"Are you…Joshua Skein?" asked Reid. The young man shook his head.

"I'm his roommate, Christopher Gardner. Can I help you?"

"We are looking for this girl," said Morgan, showing him a picture of Paige. "Did you see her Friday night?" Christopher visibly paled and sweat popped out on his forehead.

"No," he said too quickly. Both Morgan and Reid looked at each other, and then back at Christopher skeptically. "I think you should go now," Chris said. "I'm not helpful you should ask someone else."

"Look," said Morgan. "We are human behavior specialists. We know that you're hiding something and you need to tell us what it is. Now." The boy sighed, resigned.

"I didn't want to hurt her okay," he said. "I was drunk and she ran into me walking across campus. I've always had a crush on her from when Josh would bring her over here…and I guess I got a bit out of control."

"What happened?" asked Reid.

"I tried to kiss her and she pushed me. I got mad and tried to pull her into the woods so we could be in private. I thought maybe if no one could see she'd be more responsive. She started screaming, like I was gonna rape her or something. Next thing I know this guy runs over and starts yelling at me. So I got scared and ran." Morgan's fingernails bit into his palms. This guy had tried to rape her, and the man that saved her had probably abducted her. This poor girl had been through so much.

"We need you to come down to the station," said Reid. "You will describe this man to the sketch artist so that we can find her." Morgan looked at Reid with surprise. Reid looked angry, and Morgan had never heard him speak so authoritatively.

"Wh-what's happened to her?" asked Chris.

"She was abducted," said Morgan. "Her life is in danger. If you want to make up for what you did and help save her life you will come with us now."


	6. Chapter 6 Reid's POV

Reid

Reid could feel Morgan watching him as they drove back to the police station with Christopher in tow. Reid knew that Morgan probably was wondering what was bothering him, and if he was honest with himself, Reid didn't know either. Maybe it had started with his sentimental feelings in his apartment earlier that day. Maybe it was his lack of sleep combined with being bothered by the pictures he'd had to analyze earlier. Whatever it was, the case was becoming personal. It was too personal. He knew it was always a terrible idea to get personally involved in a case, but he couldn't seem to help it.

He had been way too angry at Paige's attempted rapist, and he couldn't get the picture of her out of his mind. Something about her spoke to him, and it shook him to the core. He'd never felt like this since Lila, a woman he'd protected from a stalker who he'd developed a relationship. The difference was that he had met Lila, and that they'd spent time together. It was irrational feeling this way about a woman he had never met or talked to. What was it about this case that unsettled him so much?

They returned to the police station and Morgan dragged Christopher off to see the sketch artist. Reid sat at what had become his table and stared at the fake wooden table top. Unable to help himself, he opened the case file and stared at Paige's picture, memorizing her features. His eyes traced the arch of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the set of her chin. She seemed to be talking to him through the photograph with that smile, saying so much while saying nothing at all.

Suddenly, Reid was seized with inspiration and took out the pictures of the other victims. He stared at each one, analyzing their faces. Certainty grew in his mind, spreading quickly. He closed the file and practically sprinted up the stairs, where Hotchner, Prentiss, and Rossi were teleconferencing with Garcia. He burst into the room and all heads turned in his direction.

"I've found something," he gasped, out of breath. He strode forward and spread the pictures out on the table, starting with the one of Paige. "When we first looked at the victims we thought they didn't look similar, and they don't. However they all have something similar about them. Each victim has an unusually expressive face." Hotchner moved around the table to look at the pictures, tension stiffening his face like it always did.

"So the killer isn't just randomly selecting victims," said Hotchner. "He picks them because he can see their emotions in their faces."

"He wants to be able to see how they're feeling just by looking at them. He wants to see their pain while he tortures them," said Rossi with a twisted sense of awe.

"That type of specialization shows a higher level of organization than we previously thought," said Reid. "This changes the profile. He could be older than we originally estimated."

"We need to let Garcia know so that we can get a new list of suspects," said Prentiss. "The ones we checked out this afternoon were weird but they weren't the killer." Hotchner picked up the phone and dialed Garcia's number.

"Digame," said Garcia over the speaker phone. It took Hotchner a second to get over the bafflement of Garcia speaking Spanish, and then he proceeded.

"Garcia I need you to pull up the original list of suspects before we narrowed it down by age," he said seriously. There was a moment of silence, and then a click.

"Done," she said.

"Now eliminate the ten suspects that you sent us before," said Hotch. Another moment of silence filled the room.

"Got it," she said. "What should I do with them?"

"Find any of those men that had a wife or a girlfriend that died under suspicious circumstances," Hotchner continued. They all listened to more typing.

"There are three depending on what you find suspicious," said Garcia. "One had a wife that died in a home invasion two years ago, one had a girlfriend that died in a car accident, and one had a girlfriend that died from a fall down the stairs. No charges were made in any of those cases, it looks like home invasion was never solved, the car accident was deemed an actual accident and the boyfriend had an alibi for the fall down the stairs so that was also called an accident." Reid spoke up.

"Can you send me a picture of each of the women?" asked Reid. "I want to see if their faces are similar to the victims'."

"Sure," said Garcia. "I'm faxing them to the police station as we speak."

"Thank you, Garcia," said Hotchner. He snapped the phone shut as Reid made his way toward the fax machine. He picked up the pictures and looked at each of them carefully.

"This one," he said decidedly. "Here's the address. This man could be our unsub." Hotchner turned to the chief of police.

"You should call the SWAT team," he said. "This guy is armed and dangerous. We'll need back up."

"Okay," said the chief. "They should be here in a couple hours."

"What?" asked Reid. "A couple…hours? Why so long?"

"It takes them a few hours to get here from the city."

"We can't wait that long," said Reid. "She's being tortured right now! We need to go save her!" Too late, he realized he was shouting. The whole police station stopped and looked at him. Hotchner put his hands on Reid's shoulders and looked into his face.

"Reid, I don't know what's going on with you, but you need to snap out of it. We can't go in there to save her without a SWAT team, otherwise she might end up dead. Is that what you want?" Reid shook his head, unable to speak because of the tight feeling in his chest. "I saw the pictures too, Reid," said Hotch, "and I understand your feeling of urgency, but we have to put our safety as a priority too." Hotch looked up at the clock and then back at Reid. "It's been almost thirty hours since you've slept. Why don't you go to the motel and try and get an hour or two of rest before the raid?" Reid nodded obediently and walked away.

In his heart he knew that he wouldn't sleep. He wouldn't be able to knowing that Paige could be getting tortured right at that very minute. As he got into the car to drive himself to the motel, he realized he was still holding the picture with the address on it in his hand. Making a split-second decision, he started the car and sped off in search of the girl that haunted his waking dreams.


	7. Chapter 7 Reid's POV

Reid

Reid drew his gun as he entered the house. He had been surprised to find the front door unlocked. He slowly walked through each room, checking around every corner, gun pointed straight ahead. The house was eerily quiet. Only the sound of the buzzing refrigerator and his frantically beating heart greeted him. He searched the whole house, seemingly top to bottom, but didn't hear or see a sign of Paige. Doubt nagged at him. What if this wasn't the right house after all? What if he was wasting time?

He was just about to leave and give it up for a lost cause, when he heard a soft rustling sound. He stopped in his tracks and stood as still as he could, barely breathing. He heard it again, and this time he could tell the sound was coming from below him. He looked around, and didn't see any doors leading to a basement. Where was the sound originating from? He took a step, and one of the floorboards creaked below his feet. Suddenly seized by inspiration, he used his foot to push aside the rug on the floor. His heart pounded as he saw that he had revealed a trap door. He holstered his gun and used all his strength to heave it open. It made a loud creaking noise, and he froze, wondering if the unsub was in the house and could hear him. After a few moments of complete silence, Reid cautiously started down the dark stairs.

It took a few moments for his eyes to become adjusted to the dark room. It was not very spacious and smelled like rotten meat and human waste. He took a few steps forward, gun drawn again. Now he could see something huddled in the corner. His heart leaped. Was it Paige?

"Paige Stewart?" he asked quietly. The shape in the darkness stirred. He could see the shine of her eyes in the dim light. He saw that she was tied up. As his eyes further adjusted, he could see that she'd been tortured. The thin dress she wore was torn in many places and stained almost all over with blood, both old and new. Every inch of skin he could see, except on her face, was covered in deep cuts. His stomach clenched, but he tried to look calm.

"Who are you?" she asked. Her voice cracked like she hadn't used it in a long time.

"My name is Spencer Reid, I'm a special agent for the FBI. I'm going to get you out of here." She looked at him and Reid could see no emotion in her face. It was as if her personality had been bled out of her. Empty eyes looked back at him, apparently unconcerned. It was such a contrast from the happy person he'd seen in the picture. He knew she had been through a lot of trauma. Hopefully once her physical wounds healed her emotional wounds would as well.

He holstered his gun and took out the small pocket-knife he usually kept on him. He opened it and she flinched, shrinking up against the wall. Her eyes were alight now, staring over his shoulder with undisguised terror. He looked down at his knife, then back at her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "I'm going to cut the ropes on your hands and ankles, then I'm going to get you out of here." Suddenly, he heard the distinct click-click of a gun directly behind his head. He closed his eyes as he realized that she hadn't been terrified of him. The unsub was standing directly behind him.

"Drop the knife," said a gravelly voice. Reid slowly put it down, swearing profusely inside his head. Not only was he probably going to die now, but he'd as much as signed Paige's death warrant. His only chance was to talk his way out of it.

"I'm here for Paige," he said. "I have no interest in arresting you, I just want to bring Paige somewhere safe. Just let us go, and I won't tell anyone about you. I'll say I found her somewhere..."

"Shut up," said the unsub. "Get over there." He motioned for Reid to move into the corner furthest into the room. Reid complied. The unsub reached up and turned on a light that Reid hadn't known was there. With the room thrown into relief Reid fought the urge to heave up his stomach. Stains covered the floor, some new and red, some old and brown, and all definitely blood. Almost the whole floor was covered, with only a few patches of the gray concrete floor showing through. Reid watched in confusion as the unsub cut the ropes binding Paige. Reid could barely look at her face, contorted by fear and pain. It showed through as if she were screaming it out loud, but she stayed completely silent.

"Pick up the knife," the unsub was saying to Paige, and she obediently picked it up, her hands shaking with fatigue, fear, and probably cold as well. The unsub now turned his attention back to Reid. He smiled, and Reid could see the cold madness in his eyes, the kind he'd seen too many times before. "Paige, darling," said the unsub. "I want you to decorate Mister Cop here with his own blood. I want you to slice him up, anywhere you want. I want him to be colored red."

Paige looked resigned as she turned to Reid, knife in hand. Somehow, Reid was more than okay with this turn of events. It would take some time for Paige to wound him, and maybe the rest of his unit would arrive with the SWAT team before the unsub got bored enough to kill him and Paige. He also was glad that there would at least be a few minutes that Paige wouldn't be tortured. She stepped forward, laying the sharp edge of the knife against the center of his chest. Reid could feel the cold metal through his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, not looking at him. Then she dug the point into his skin and slashed across it, leaving a bloody trail in it's wake. Reid bit his lower lip so that he wouldn't make a sound. It hurt, but he'd had worse.

"Cut it deeper," said the unsub. Reid looked at him and could see how fascinated he was with watching Paige and watching the blood flow down his shirt. Paige obeyed, cutting again, deeper, in the same place. This time the pain was much worse and Reid closed his eyes, focusing on something else, anything else.


	8. Chapter 8 Morgan's POV

Morgan

Morgan was sleeping in his bed at the motel room he shared with Reid. He was dreaming, like he did sometimes, about the case. In his dream Paige was being slashed open by a thousand knives. She was screaming in pain, tears coursing down her face while someone was laughing. He was trying to reach her, but as always happens in dreams, it felt like lead was weighing down his limbs, making him unable to move to save her. A shrill telephone ring cut through his dream, waking him up instantly.

He sat up and answered the phone on instinct, without even thinking. Sweat covered his trembling body. He didn't feel refreshed at all from his sleep, just more tired.

"Morgan," he answered.

"Morgan, it's Hotch. I need you and Reid to get back to the station right away. The SWAT team is here, we're ready to raid the house." Morgan scratched his head, his brain still slightly muddled from sleep and the dream.

"Reid...Reid isn't here," said Morgan, confused. A moment of silence followed his statement.

"Reid left to go back to the motel over an hour ago," said Hotch, a touch of panic in his voice that made Morgan snap out of his sleepy state and on high alert. "He should have been there."

"Well, he's not," said Morgan. "I never heard him come in." Hotch swore loudly and with such anger it made Morgan flinch.

"He went after the unsub," said Hotch. "He wanted to go in and save the victim without the SWAT team, and I wouldn't let him. He must have gone on his own. I need you to get to that house as soon as you can. Here's the address..." Morgan was already shoving on his shoes and putting on his jacket with one hand.

He drove like the devil was after him to the unsub's house. He got there before the rest of the team as the hotel was closer than the station. The front door was standing open. Morgan swore quietly to himself. That wasn't a good sign. He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should wait for the SWAT team and the rest of the agents, but Paige's face from his dream flashed across his vision, then Reid's from when he was being tortured by an unsub a few years ago while he'd watched helplessly on the other side of a computer screen. It had been unbearable then, and he wasn't helpless now. He drew his gun and entered the house, checking every room as he went.

He went through a few rooms before he came to one that seemed promising. The rug had been swept to the side and a door was open in the middle of the floor to show a set of stairs. Morgan could hear voices, one an angry sounding man's voice, the other a crying woman's voice. Morgan started to walk as silently as he could down the stairs.

"Do it," snarled the man. "Cut his wrists!" Morgan could hear soft sobs.

"No," said the girl. Morgan was almost all the way down the stairs now. He could see a tall middle-aged man holding a gun pointed at the back of the girl's head. She was kneeling next to Reid, who looked pale and in pain. Blood stained his clothes and matted his hair. Morgan could see he'd been cut up pretty badly. Paige was holding Reid's wrist in her lap, knife in one hand.

"Slit his wrists," growled the man. "Do it or I'll shoot you, worthless bitch!" More sobs followed.

"Go ahead," said Reid's soft soothing voice. "I don't mind. I don't want him to shoot you." Morgan could see blood in Reid's mouth and on his teeth. It looked like Reid had bitten his lip so hard he'd broken the skin. For the briefest of seconds, Reid looked up and connected eyes with Morgan, then Reid looked instantly away, trying not to alert the unsub of Morgan's presence. Morgan was almost behind the unsub now, who seemed so focused on the scene in front of him that he didn't hear Morgan.

Morgan stepped forward and pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of the unsub's head.

"Reid," he said, voice trembling just a little, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't blast his brains out right now." The unsub had frozen. "Drop the gun," he said to the unsub, and the man stooped to put it down. He stood back up and Morgan pressed his gun to his head again. Morgan looked at Reid and their eyes connected. Reid shrugged.

"He didn't kill me yet," said Reid. "Personally I'd consider it a favor if you killed him. What do you think Paige?" Reid turned his head weakly to look at the girl still kneeling next to him. He reached over and gently took the knife from her, placing it out of her reach and taking her hand. With her other hand he lifted her chin to look into his eyes. "Paige," he said gently. "Do you want us to kill him?" Paige hesitated a moment. Morgan could see the wheels turning in her head as she debated.

"How many others?" she asked in a choked voice. Morgan and Reid looked at each other.

"Four," answered Reid. Paige nodded to herself, looking down at her and Reid's hands. She nodded again, more decisively.

"Go ahead," she said quietly. Morgan grabbed the unsub by the back of his shirt and pushed him to the side, so he wasn't standing directly in front of Paige and Reid. Then he shot him expertly in the back. The unsub crumpled to the ground, gurgling quietly on the ground. Then he went still. Morgan looked down at him, feeling strangely content with what he'd done. Somehow, it made everything all-right.

Morgan watched with a stab of something like jealousy as Paige collapsed in Reid's arms, sobbing. Reid stroked her hair and closed his eyes, obviously in pain from her embrace. As if startled from a trance, Morgan turned and ran up the stairs. The SWAT team and the rest of the unit were just arriving. Morgan was shocked to realize only a few minutes had gone by. It had felt like years. He ran out the door as he saw Hotch, Prentiss and Rossi jumping out of their shared vehicle.

"Get the medics here," he yelled. "Reid and the victim are pretty cut up." Prentiss gasped, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Reid was injured?" she asked in horror. Morgan nodded.

"The unsub?" asked Rossi.

"Dead," said Morgan. "I had to shoot him." The three agents nodded and Hotch turned to call for the medics. Morgan turned and went back into the house, down the wooden stairs and into that room again. For the first time he noticed how it smelled like death.

"Medics are on their way," Morgan told Reid and Paige. Reid nodded weakly. Paige seemed to be asleep, slumped on his chest. Morgan stared. It seemed like her and Reid had bonded. He heard footsteps on the stairs behind him, and medics arrived with two stretchers. As the medics loaded Paige onto a stretcher Morgan noticed the extent of her injuries. There were so many deep gashes he was surprised she hadn't bled out before this. Once she was strapped to the stretcher and being carried up the stairs, Morgan felt it was okay to talk to Reid frankly.

"Damn it Reid if I didn't know any better I would think you were stupid," said Morgan. "What the hell were you thinking? It's only luck you aren't dead. If I hadn't arrived when I did..." He swiped angry tears from his eyes. Reid had the grace to look ashamed.

"I couldn't leave her here," he said. "I couldn't function until I knew she was safe." Morgan nodded, knowing he'd had that feeling himself. He was still angry though. He opened his mouth to yell at Reid more as he was being strapped to the stretcher, but Morgan could see Hotch at the top of the stairs, and he knew that Hotch could yell at him far better than he could. Relief scorched through him, making his knees almost buckle. Paige was safe. Reid was safe. The killer was in hell where he belonged. Maybe now he could get a couple hours of good sleep.


	9. Chapter 9 Paige's POV

Paige

I woke up after sleeping for what felt like weeks. I started to stretch my stiff arms and legs but pain stopped me. I had the vague thought that something was wrong, that I should open my eyes. So I opened my eyes a crack. I could smell the combination of decay and filth of the room I was being kept in. A man loomed above me with a syringe. My body automatically kicked into fight or flight mode. Panic filled my chest and powered me to move.

I surged up out of bed and struck the syringe out of his hand. I started punching and kicking and scratching as hard as I could, trying to get away. I felt brief sharp pain, but I didn't care.

"Let me go!" I screamed, clawing at his face. Tears streamed out of my eyes without control. Arms clamped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. I struggled harder, trying to free myself. "Let me go!" I pleaded in between sobs. "Please don't hurt me, just let me go! Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me please!" My voice gave out and I choked on my sobs. I stopped struggling, my energy completely spent, resigned to the pain.

"Paige," a soothing voice said. "Paige, you're in a hospital. No one is going to hurt you. Everything is okay." The voice shushed me and the arms around my sides turned gentle. Unable to help it, I collapsed in his arms, so utterly thankful. The smell of the room faded from my mind and I could now smell the unmistakable hospital smell, the mixture of rubbing alcohol and plastic. I sobbed out of pure relief that my ordeal was over. I could feel myself being gently lowered back onto the hospital bed.

Suddenly I found myself looking up into the face of the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He looked down at me with concern. I could only stare. He took my breath away.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded and finally took a breath.

"The man…the man with the syringe…" I stuttered.

"He was a doctor. You gave him quite a scare, attacking him like you did." The corner of his mouth turned up briefly, revealing that he'd found it a tiny bit funny. "He'll be okay, but he may be too afraid to treat you after this."

"I thought…I thought I was there in that room," I shuddered. He put a comforting hand on my shoulder and his eyes softened. "Is he really dead?" I whispered. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them I could see the regret and determination in his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "He's really dead." I sighed in relief. Then another thought occurred to me.

"The man, the one that I hurt…"

"He's fine," he said. "He's in the bed next to you actually." He stood up and pulled the curtain back so that I could see him. He was awake, and reading a file. He had bandages on his arms and I could see the healing scab on his bottom lip where he'd bitten through it. He turned to look, and when he saw me he smiled. I almost gasped out loud. What was with the beautiful men surrounding me?

"Hi Paige," he said. He almost sounded nervous. I wanted to smile back at him, but the guilt of what I'd done was crushing me. He looked so sweet and nice, and I'd been the one to torture him with a knife. My eyes filled up with tears.

"Sir, I am…" I couldn't speak. His eyes creased with worry.

"Call me Spencer," he said. "And you had no choice, Paige. He had a gun to your head. You did exactly what you should have." This only made me feel worse. He really was a nice person. He smiled uncertainly. "So I see you and Morgan have been introduced," he said, clearing his throat and obviously trying to change the subject.

"Morgan?" I asked, confused.

"Me," said the gorgeous dark-skinned man that had comforted me. "My name is Derek Morgan."

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid. Just being around that man made me feel shy and awkward. "Yeah we've met." I turned to Derek. "Thank you for stopping me from hurting my doctor too badly." My mouth twitched as I tried to smile. Derek smiled at me sympathetically.

"He's just lucky I was visiting Pretty Boy, here," he said. "You gave the doctor a couple good left-hooks."

Just then a nurse entered the room, looking cautious.

"Is it all-right if I come in," she asked nervously. I fought the urge to laugh hysterically until I cried, and I managed.

"Yeah it's okay come on in," I said, trying to sound nice and just ending up sounding sarcastic. Regardless, the nurse came in and giving my bed wide berth, walked over to Spencer's bed and checked his charts. She flashed him a charming smile.

"Well then Mister Reid, you've been cleared to go home in the morning. Just get a good night's sleep and then you can go on saving lives." She practically batted her eyelashes at him. I wondered if it was too late to rescind her invitation to the room.

"As for you," she continued moving over to my bed. She used a significantly less sugary voice when she addressed me. "I'm going to give you more pain meds and in the morning we'll reevaluate your status. Also your parents called they're on their way here. They should be here in the morning."

She picked up a syringe and eyed me cautiously as she approached my bed. She looked me over disapprovingly. "It looks like you tore out your IV when you were attacking Doctor Backcroft." That would explain the pain I felt when I started punching him. She took a couple minutes bustling around my bed, replacing the IV. I didn't even flinch when she stuck me with the needle, even though she was far from gentle about it. Derek tried to act like he wasn't watching me, but he wasn't far away. I caught his eye once while he was checking to make sure I wasn't going to attack the nurse. I rolled my eyes at him and he started to laugh but hastily turned it into a cough as the nurse turned to look at him.

The nurse finally left. I glanced over at Spencer and saw he was reading the file again. He was flipping through pages as if he wasn't reading them at all, but his look of concentration showed something else.

"Are you actually reading that fast?" I asked and he looked up at me briefly before returning his eyes to the page.

"Yes," he said simply, then looked back at me. "You're very observant." I blushed.

"I've been told that people can always tell what I'm thinking just by looking at my face. I didn't realize that was different from everyone else, because I've always been able to tell what people are feeling just by looking at their faces. It's just a weird coincidence I think." Spencer looked at me for a few moments more, seeming to study me like he'd been studying the file.

"You would have made a good profiler," he said. "But a terrible interrogator."

"I could never lie to my parents," I said. "They could always tell when I was lying, but I could always tell when they were lying too. They weren't too pleased about that." Spencer chuckled and looked back down at his file. I looked back at Derek.

"So you guys are from the FBI?" I asked. "You've come a long way."

"It's our job," he said. "We fly around trying to catch guys like the one that hurt you."

"I don't think I've officially thanked you," I glanced at Spencer, "both of you for saving me. I didn't think I'd ever see my family again…" Against my will a couple tears slid down my cheeks, but I brushed them away. Derek leaned forward and squeezed my shoulder.

"My pleasure," he said softly and smiled. I couldn't breathe, he was so attractive. Spencer didn't say anything, and I tried not to take it personally. I could feel the drugs start to work, and I was getting sleepy. My eyes felt heavy and I closed them for a moment, then opened them again. Derek smiled at me again.

"You should get some sleep, honey. You'll want to be awake when your parents get here." I nodded and he got up to leave as I closed my eyes and drifted off.

A couple hours later I woke up again. The room was dark, but still somewhat lit because the door was open. I wondered if Derek had left it open for me. I could hear his voice near me, and I listened.

"She's definitely got some post-traumatic stress, but she's strong and she's got a good sense of humor. She'll recover."

"Did you see the way she looked at me?" This was Spencer. "She couldn't look at me for more than a couple seconds without crying. Do you think she'll ever be able to get over what she had to do?"

"She liked you Reid. She had a conversation with you. Eventually all wounds heal." Spencer stayed silent. "You like her don't you?" asked Derek. "Is that why you were ignoring her?"

"I wasn't ignoring her…I just didn't know what to say." Derek chuckled.

"You'll think of something. Get some sleep now. We've got a long drive to the airport and then a long plane ride back to Virginia." I felt a flash of something like panic and regret that they were leaving. I felt so safe with both of them around. I rolled over and went back to sleep, wishing against hope that they would stay.

In the morning I woke up and both of them were gone. I sighed and resigned myself to facts. They were FBI agents with busy jobs. They probably both had girlfriends at home, maybe wives. They couldn't stay with me forever and help me face my own demons. Their job was done. I couldn't help missing them. God, they were both so good-looking. It was then that I noticed an envelope on my nightstand with my name on it. I opened it and inside was a letter.

_Paige,_

_I'm sorry I didn't respond when you thanked me for helping save your life. Sometimes I just don't know what to say. I'm not exactly prolific at social interactions. I wish that we had met under normal circumstances. You seem like a really nice, intelligent woman. As for helping save your life, I have wondered if I was more of a hindrance than a help. I hope that the experiences you had to go through won't follow you through life. A couple years ago, I was abducted and tortured as well, and I know how difficult it is to move on with your life afterwards. All I can tell you is to keep pursuing what you're passionate about and to let your family and friends help you. If you ever need to talk I can't promise I'm always available, but I can promise to get back to you._

_Dr. Spencer Reid_


	10. Chapter 10 Morgan's POV then Reid's POV

Morgan (18 Months Later)

He was sitting in a bar in Washington D.C. Sipping his drink, he scanned the room discretely, checking out the women in the bar. None caught his eye, so he turned his attention solely to his drink. After this he would go home and sleep. He'd just returned from a really difficult case. They'd been too late to save the person they'd been trying to, and the serial killer they'd arrested hadn't been open to divulging where the rest of the bodies were. They had to figure it out themselves, and when they found them the sight had been so disturbing it still made his skin crawl.

He looked into his glass and for what felt like the millionth time he questioned his career choice. He had no social life, he barely saw his family. He went to work every day and had to deal with high stress situations that sometimes gave him nightmares. Some days it seemed that there were no upsides to his job. He tried to tell himself that he saved lives, that every serial killer he put away prevented them from killing more people. It was the people they hadn't saved that haunted him.

He took a long sip from his drink, emptying the glass, as a woman sat down at the bar a couple seats down. She had to walk by him to sit down, and he could smell her perfume.

"Scotch on the rocks," she ordered, and Morgan looked down at his own scotch on the rocks.

"Me too," he said to the bartender. "And I'll pay for both." The bartender nodded, poured both drinks, and handed them to both people. The woman glanced at him, surveying him under her eyelashes. He surveyed her in turn. She was very pretty, and seemed somewhat familiar.

"Agent Derek Morgan?" she asked. He nearly choked on his drink.

"Do I know you?" he asked. He hoped she wasn't someone he'd taken on a date and never called, or slept with and then avoided. She did look familiar. Crap, he knew he was screwed.

"I'll give you a hint," she said. She didn't seem mad. She seemed…amused. "I used to have red hair. I colored it brown." He looked harder.

"Paige?" he asked. "Paige from Maine?" She smiled and nodded, looking delighted that he'd remembered. "What are you doing in Washington? The last time I saw you we were in that tiny little college town."

"I'm here for a summer internship," she said. "I'm going to be an assistant to a newspaper journalist, isn't that great?" He nodded, still trying to get over his shock. "It's great to see you," she said.

"I'm glad," he said. "Sometimes seeing us just reminds the victims of their attacks." She nodded to herself, her smile faded.

"You do," she said. "You do remind me, but for the most part…you remind me how you saved my life." She smiled at him and drained her drink. "It was great to see you Derek. Do me a favor and don't tell Spencer that I'm here? We've kept in touch and I wanted to surprise him with a visit." With that she smiled and sauntered out of the bar, leaving just the smell of her perfume and an empty scotch glass.

Reid

Reid entered the office, early like he always did. The building was already somewhat busy, women in pencil skirts and men in suits and ties bustled by him without noticing him. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and made his way through the crowd to the BAU section. He let the glass door close behind him and felt instant relief as some of the noise faded. The office was mostly empty. He could just see JJ at her desk and he could see the shadow of Hotch in his office.

Strangely, he could see a pair of shapely legs clad in black high heels extending from the chair behind his desk. One foot tapped as if impatient. He had no idea why some woman had decided to sit at his desk, and he approached cautiously, not knowing what to expect. He turned around the barrier that kept his desk from sight.

"Excuse me ma'am," he began, and the woman turned around as if startled.

"Spencer!" she exclaimed excitedly and jumped up to hug him. He was overwhelmed by how warm and good she felt pressed against him. She smelled amazing.

"Paige?" he said doubtfully. She raised her head and smiled up at him, confirming his theory. "What are you doing here?" he asked, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Not that I'm not glad to see you…I'm very glad to see you, I just…" She chuckled.

"I'm glad to see you too. I'm sorry for surprising you like this, but in one of my letters I promised that if I ever came to the area that I would visit you. So here I am!" She beamed at him, and he felt his heart stutter in its rhythm.

"I remember you promising that," he said. "I just didn't think you'd ever get a chance."

"I applied for a journalism internship in this area," she said. "I'm going to be living here all summer." She was still hugging him lightly around the waist. He hoped she wouldn't let go.

"That's great!" he started to ask her if she wanted to go to dinner sometime, but Morgan came in.

"Paige," Morgan said, sounding mildly surprised. "Fancy seeing you here." He raised his eyebrows at them, obviously observing their hug.

"I'm here to visit Spencer," she said, and she unwound her arms from his waist. "I told you I would." Reid was confused.

"You knew she was here?" he asked Morgan. Morgan shrugged.

"I ran into her at a bar last night. She didn't want me to tell you so it would be a surprise when she visited you." Paige nodded her agreement. She looked at her watch and frowned.

"I have to go," she said sadly. She turned back to Reid and looked up into his face. Her expression was serious and pensive. "Spencer, I just want to thank you for the letters you sent me. They helped me through one of the most difficult times in my life. I don't know how I would have lived without them."

She looked into his eyes, waiting for some type of response. He looked back into her eyes. He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to thank her for responding to his letters. He wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful and that he'd missed her. However, nothing from his mind would make it to words. After a moment she smiled patiently and reached for his belt. He was so surprised by this sudden movement toward that part of his body that he couldn't move. She gracefully plucked his cell phone from the clip on his belt and flipped it open. She pressed a few buttons, dialed a number and then handed it back to him. He took it, still unable to speak.

"Call me when you get a chance," she said and smiled before turning and walking from the office. Reid watched her go with a surreal feeling. He'd imagined this moment, and yet couldn't grasp that it had happened. He finally noticed Morgan watching him, an amused smile on his face.

"So, Pretty Boy," he said in a teasing tone. "You gonna call her?" Reid looked down at the phone in his hand uncertainly.

"I want to," he said softly. Morgan picked up a couple files and walked past Reid toward the stairs to Garcia's office. He stopped and gently punched Reid in the shoulder.

"Call her, man. She's young, beautiful, smart, and obviously likes you. It's a no-brainer."

"It sounds like you want to date her," said Reid, attempting humor.

"I would if it didn't mean I'd be taking her from you," said Morgan. "You don't know how tempting it was to offer to show her the city last night when I saw her in the bar."

"Why didn't you?" asked Reid. "She probably wants to see the sights." Morgan stared, and then laughed.

"Pretty Boy, you don't understand what 'show someone the city' is a euphemism for do you?" Reid was baffled, and Morgan must have seen it in his face, because he chuckled to himself and climbed the stairs up to Garcia's office. Reid thought for a moment before Morgan's meaning occurred to him. He blushed at the thought and then sat down at his desk. The chair smelled like her perfume. He opened his phone and looked at her number. If he were Morgan, he'd call her up and ask her out. He put the phone down. He wasn't ready to call her yet. He wondered if he ever would be.


	11. Chapter 11 Paige's POV

Paige (One Week Later)

I wound my way through the crush of people in the newspaper office, carefully balancing four coffees. It was nearing the end of my first week of my journalism internship, and I had yet to do anything related to journalism. I was everyone's coffee-run person, copy maker, and errand runner. I made it to the desk of one of the editors and set the coffee down. Four expectant people turned to me, and I handed them out according to person. Black for the editor, extra cream and sugar for his secretary (which I suspected was the case in all aspects of her life), fat free cream and artificial sweetener for the fitness columnist and regular for a guy that I had no idea what his job was.

I walked away before they could ask me to do anything else, and made it back to my own personal desk, where the IT guy, Steve, was busy trying to make my computer function. I handed him a brownie I'd taken from the break room and plopped in my chair with a sigh.

"Any luck?" I asked him. He didn't even look up.

"It seems like you got the computer with all the viruses in the world," he said. "It barely has any memory, so it's running slowly due to the heavy amount of programs still left on it. Its system is old and it has no virus protection. I'd say it will take me about an hour to make this computer better than any of the others." He flashed me a smile and then looked back at the screen, navigating through a bunch of files with elegant ease.

"Mine will be better?" I asked. "If you can make the rest of the computers that good why aren't they all that way?"

"Because no one else brings me food and talks to me like a person," he said. "And plus you're the prettiest girl here besides the editor's secretary, and she's off-limits." He sent me a flirtatious smile and then looked back at the computer.

"Well thank you so much," I said. "You're a lifesaver! If there's anything I can do to return the favor please let me know."

"Actually, feel free to turn me down, but I got invited to a party tonight for a bunch of techies and we're supposed to bring dates. My girlfriend and I split up a couple weeks ago and I didn't remember about the party 'til today. If you don't have any plans tonight would you go with me?" He said all this about as fast as he was typing, which was very fast. I laughed at the suddenness and the delivery.

"Sure," I said. I'd been hoping to do something social. Spencer still hadn't called me, and I hadn't done anything or gone anywhere except the office since I'd seen him. I needed to get out and enjoy civilization. After all, I'd escaped the small town and I wanted to experience the city!

"Really?" his fingers were poised above the keyboard like a frozen cat with its claws out. I nodded.

"I'd love to go with you, but as friends right?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah it would have to be. I haven't gotten over my girlfriend yet, I can't date anyone for a while. She…" He trailed off and set his fingers down on the keys. "She was something special." He looked so sad that I tried to change the subject.

"So when are you picking me up? And should I wear something slutty?" I surprised a laugh out of him.

"Yes you most definitely should," he teased. "I'm going to make all my techie buddies have a heart attack."

That night Steve picked me up at 7pm. I was wearing an off the shoulder black dress that went down to about mid-thigh. I'd left my hair loose and curled it so it bounced in spiral curls around my shoulders. I wore sparkly black and red earrings that were almost as long as my hair. I'd topped it off with red heels and bright red lipstick. Steve stopped dead when he saw me.

"Oh my god," he said, shocked. "You look amazing!"

"So do you," I said, and I meant it. He was wearing a dark suit without a tie and he'd combed his hair back. "We are going to make your ex so jealous," I said, linking my arm with his.

The party was cooler than I expected it to be. When he'd told me I was going to a techie party I thought I'd be surrounded by guys with thick glasses and pocket protectors, but the people here seemed normal, if not a little eccentric. Steve walked me around and introduced me to a bunch of people, all of whom seemed surprised to meet me. The most difficult part was trying to follow their conversations. They seemed to be speaking in their own language which was close to English but was more high tech.

We'd been at the party for almost an hour when Steve clutched my arm tightly.

"There she is," he said with an ounce of awe in his voice. "There's my Penny." I saw a pretty blonde woman with glasses enter the room. She wore a very colorful dress and just generally seemed like a happy person. She turned to talk to the person following her in, and she smiled.

"I can see why you like her," I said softly. "She's pretty and she looks…" Whatever else I was going to say was lost when the man that stepped into the room after her was Derek Morgan.

"That's her friend Morgan," said Steve. "She must have brought him as a date." I watched as she started to walk around the room, introducing Derek to all the guests. Steve was watching her with sad eyes. I turned and looked at him.

"Steve, do you still love her?" I asked. He nodded. "What made you guys split up?"

"I broke up with her. I was intimidated by her job and her beauty. I was so scared that I broke up with her. I was so stupid." I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"Listen to me," I said. "Take it from me as a woman. Just go to her and tell her you love her and that you made a terrible mistake. If she loves you too, then she'll take you back." He nodded. "You ready?" I asked. He took a deep breath, fortifying himself, then nodded again. I turned and ran straight into a warm solid chest.

"Excuse me," I said, at the same time a deep, rich voice said the same. I looked up into Derek's handsome face.

"Paige?" he asked, baffled.

"Steve?" asked Penny. Derek looked more confused.

"Steve?" he asked gesturing between myself and Steve.

"Morgan?" asked Steve, gesturing between me and Derek. I just laughed. I reached across and shook Penny's hand.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Paige Stewart. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Penelope Garcia," she said, looking as confused as everyone else. I blinked.

"You're Garcia? Spencer has told me a lot about you."

"Spencer?" she asked.

"Garcia, she was involved in the Downeast Maine case," he said. "She and Reid have kept in touch. She's here for a journalism internship."

"Steve here completely transformed my computer from a crippled dinosaur from the Stone Age to the best machine in the office." I said. "I offered to do him a favor and he asked me to this party. Small world huh?" Derek smiled at me, but Penelope and Steve only had eyes for each other.

"Can I talk to you?" Steve asked Garcia. She nodded and they walked away together, their shoulders almost touching. I looked at Derek and saw he'd been watching me.

"Are you following me?" I joked, taking a sip from my drink. He chuckled.

"Actually to the casual observer it would look like _you_ are following _me_," he said.

"I'm just trying to see the city," I said. "I haven't been out of the office since I got here." I smiled at him.

"Reid hasn't called you huh?" he asked. I was taken aback.

"No. No, he hasn't." I said. I looked down at my red heels. "Is it that obvious?" Derek picked up a drink.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's go out on the balcony." He took my hand and pulled me through the throng of people to the balcony. His hand felt warm and strong on mine. The balcony was empty, just a couple lawn chairs facing the city lights greeted us. He sat down in one chair and I took the other. I took a sip from my drink and I watched him as he decided what to say.

"How have you been?" he asked. "I mean, since your attack?" I looked out over the city and took a moment before I answered.

"I'm surviving," I said. "Sometimes I still wake up convinced I'm locked in that room. I transferred to a different college because everyone at my old one just knew me as the girl that was abducted. People would ask me questions about it. I just couldn't take it. So I transferred. I still have scars, but they've all healed up."

"Rossi says that scars show where we've been, but they don't have to show where we're going," said Derek. "It looks like you've put it behind you."

"I've tried," I said. "This internship is helping. Being in a new place, doing something I'm passionate about distracts me." I looked at him. "Not that I'm not grateful for your concern, but why do you ask?" He sighed.

"Reid feels guilty about your case," said Derek. "He didn't act completely according to protocol. He thinks that if he had just been more patient and waited for the SWAT team then maybe some of your suffering could have been prevented." I shook my head.

"If anything, I should be feeling guilty," I said. "All that happened was that _he_ got hurt. The only suffering I was caused by his presence was the guilt. He was trying to save me and I was carving him up." This time Morgan shook his head.

"He doesn't blame you, he blames the unsub," he said. "As it should be. It wasn't your fault Paige."

"That's what I keep telling myself," I said. "It doesn't seem to stick though."

"I guess you and Reid are meant for each other," said Morgan. "Both of you know the truth about each other and you're both unwilling to accept it." I blushed.

" I do like him," I said. "He just doesn't like me in return," I said shrugging. I'd tried to accept it.

"He does like you," said Derek. "He just doesn't know how to talk to you. Just do yourself a favor and forget gender roles and call him. This whole week I've watched him staring at his phone, trying to get the nerve to call you. Give the guy a break," said Derek with a chuckle. My heart lifted. He wanted to call me? I looked over my shoulder into the party. I could see Garcia and Steve making out in a corner.

"It looks like Garcia gave Steve a break," I said with a smile.

"I guess we both lost our dates," said Derek. "Wanna get out of here? I can show you the sights."

"I'd like that," I said, and we got up to leave.


	12. Chapter 12 Paige's POV

Paige

He took my hand and I followed him through the party. If people had looked baffled when they'd met me it was nothing compared to the looks I got as Derek and I left together. He led me to his car, which was a beautiful Aston Martin.

"Are you okay to drive?" I asked.

"I didn't finish my drink," he said. "I should be okay." He opened the door for me and the interior was as gorgeous as the car itself.

"I guess they pay you okay at the BAU," I commented. He chuckled and closed the door behind me. Watching him drive was like watching a professional athlete or an artist. He was simultaneously graceful and strong. My face flushed as I wondered where else his grace and strength would come in handy. I was confused as he turned onto the highway.

"Where are we going?" I asked. He smiled.

"I was going to show you the city, but I'm not feeling it. I thought we'd go to the beach and just chill." I shrugged.

"Whatever you wanna do," I said. "As long as I'm not at the office or in my apartment I'm up for whatever."

"How's that going by the way?" he asked. I told him how I was basically just the errand girl, and that they didn't respect me at all. I wanted to be a legitimate journalist but I felt like this internship was doing nothing for me.

"You might get more respect if they find out you have contacts in the BAU," said Derek. "The press has been trying to talk to us for years." I frowned.

"You and Spencer aren't contacts," I said. "You're my friends. I wouldn't use you like that." Derek smiled at me.

"Well I'm glad to hear you say that Sugar," he said. "And as for being your contact...what if I'm really really good? Can I be your contact then?" He waggled his eyebrows at me. I laughed.

"Since when do you call me Sugar?" I asked. He smiled.

"I give my special girls nicknames," he said. "Garcia's is Baby Girl. I call you Sugar because you're sweet and I shouldn't have you, but I can't help craving you." His smile turned from teasing to sexy as he looked over at me. I stayed silent because I didn't know what to say. I crave you too? If I gave you a nickname it would be Caramello?

Fortunately at that point we arrived at the beach. He found a parking spot and we got out. I breathed in the ocean air. It was getting dark, and the sunset was reflected in the crashing waves. He walked over and put his arm around me.

"Let's go get some ice cream," he said. My heart lifted.

"Yes please!" I resisted the urge to skip. A few minutes later, happily enjoying my chocolate ice cream we found a bench facing the ocean and sat, watching the sunset. I popped a large spoonful of ice cream in my mouth and sighed with happiness. Derek chuckled and I assumed he was laughing at my enthusiasm.

"So where are you from?" I asked. He looked mildly surprised at my question.

"Chicago," he said. I could tell from his expression that he both loved and hated his home town. Everyone does to some extent, but I could tell just thinking about growing up cast a shadow on his mind. So I changed the subject.

"Do you have family?" I asked. His face brightened. He opened his wallet and showed me a picture of his family. I saw an older but still pretty woman, and two younger women, that I assumed were his sisters. "They're beautiful," I murmured. I looked up and saw he was studying me. I leaned back and resumed enthusiastic consumption of my ice cream. We sat in silence for a couple minutes.

"So did you always want to be a journalist?" he asked me. I shrugged.

"When I was a kid I wanted to be everything. Eventually I knew I wanted to be a writer, it just took me a while to figure out what kind. For a while I wanted to write kids books, and there was a time when I wanted to write romance novels" I didn't look at him but I could sense he found that amusing. "I finally decided on journalism."

"Did you always want to be an FBI special agent?" I teased, throwing the question back at him. He smiled.

"No. I wanted to be a professional football player," he said. "I might have too if I hadn't blown out my knee." His mouth twisted with regret. I patted his arm in sympathy.

"Well I for one am glad that you aren't," I said. "I mean, you saved my life. A pro-football player couldn't have done that." He nodded and that seemed to help. I shivered suddenly, a combination of the cold ice cream and the ocean wind made me freezing. Without my asking, Derek took off his jacket and wrapped me in it. It was warm and smelled like his cologne. "Thanks," I said and smiled. He turned his body on the seat so he was facing me.

"Can I ask you something?" he said and I could tell he was serious.

"Of course," I said. "Anything." He studied my face for a moment.

"What's up with you and Reid?" he asked. "Are you in love with him?" I looked down at the black fabric of his jacket.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "We wrote letters back and forth over this year. He was supportive and comforting and sweet. I thought that once we saw each other in person that something would happen." I sighed. "Even if he wants to call me like you said, I don't know if he ever will."

"I never thought I'd say this," said Derek, "But Reid is so stupid. Can I ask you something else?" I nodded, not really able to say anything else due to the lump in my throat. He brushed a stray curl behind my ear and used his thumb to stroke my cheek. "If things don't happen between you and Reid, or if they do but they don't work out...Will you give me a chance?" I gulped and looked away.

"I didn't think I was your type," I said softly. He looked confused.

"What do you think my type is?" he asked.

"Supermodel," I said. He laughed and then continued to stroke my face.

"Sugar," he said. "Have you seen yourself? You practically are a supermodel. And I don't have a type. I just know what I like." He grasped both sides of his jacket and pulled me towards him, trapping me against his solid, warm chest. "I like you," he murmured and then he kissed me slowly and sweetly. He tasted like ice cream and wine and heaven. I melted against him, my hands traveled up his chest and wound around his neck. After a few moments, he released me. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure it was going to pop right out of my chest. He started to say something, and then his phone rang.

"Morgan," he answered it, all business. It was so sexy when he was serious. He listened to the female voice on the line. "I'm out somewhere right now, do I have time to..." He stopped and listened some more. He sighed. "Okay I'll be right there." He shut his phone with a sharp click. He sighed and looked at me regretfully

"Sorry Sugar," he said. "Looks like we'll have to cut this conversation short. Even though I'd like to continue it." He smiled and there was promise behind it. I smiled flirtatiously.

"Do you think you could sum it up for me?" I asked. He returned my smile and pulled me in for another kiss. This one had force and power behind it. If I hadn't been sitting down my jellylike knees would have failed me.

"I have to drive to the BAU right away," he said. "I don't have time to drive you home."

"I could call a cab from here," I suggested. He shook his head.

"I don't want to leave you here alone. How about I drive you to the BAU and you catch a cab from there?" I nodded and he helped me up. We held hands back to the car, and I began to wonder what was going to happen between us in the future.


	13. Chapter 13 Paige

Reid

He arrived at the BAU before the rest of the team. He assumed it was because he was the only one who had been sitting at home rather than out doing something on his day off. He plopped his go-bag on his desk and looked around. Belatedly, he realized he'd left his sunglasses in his car, and started back out the building to get them. As he reached the hallway before the entrance, lost in his own thoughts, he suddenly heard Paige's voice and stopped dead.

"I had a really great time," she was saying. "You may have noticed ice cream is one of my favorite things in the world." Morgan chuckled and Reid realized that the two of them had been out together.

"Any time, Sugar," said Morgan. "I had a great time too. I should go, but remember what I said about giving me a chance." Reid heard a rustle and moved to the other side of the hallway so he could see their reflection in the door. Morgan had taken her in his arms, and she seemed happy to be there.

"I remember," she said. "But you remember the conditions don't you?" Morgan nodded and let her go. "I don't know what this case is," she said. "But promise me you'll be careful. And tell Spencer to be careful too okay Carmello?" She handed Morgan a jacket and started to walk out the door.

"Wait," said Morgan. "Carmello?" She smiled impishly.

"Your nickname," she said, turning around and resting her back against the door. "Because you've got a chocolatey hard shell on the outside and a soft sweet inside,just like a Carmello. And they're delicious." With that she turned and walked out the door. Morgan watched her leave and shook his head, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He turned and started to walk down the hallway, almost colliding with Reid.

"Whoa," said Morgan with surprise. "Oh, Reid. I'm sorry I didn't see you there." Reid looked up at Morgan, anger, jealousy and resentment practically boiling out of his chest.

"You've got some of Paige's lipstick on your mouth," Reid told him and brushed past him as he left the building to retrieve his sunglasses. He stopped outside the door and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He opened his eyes and saw Paige waiting in the parking lot, he assumed for a cab. She was wearing a very short dress and very high heels, and she was a sight to see from the back. He thought about forgetting his glasses and going back inside so that he wouldn't have to talk to her, but she turned around and saw him before he'd made up his mind.

"Spencer!" she exclaimed happily and stepped forward to hug him enthusiastically. He had just enough time to notice that she smelled like Morgan's cologne before she released him. She looked up into his face and he knew she could tell how upset he was. "What's wrong?" Then her expression turned mortified. "You overheard Derek and me." She concluded. He couldn't do more than nod. "And you're mad at me?" He sighed.

"I'm not angry with you," he said. "I guess I'm just jealous that you and Morgan have developed a friendship and possibly a sexual relationship while I've been sitting around trying to decide to call you. And now I'm afraid that I've lost my chance to be with you even though I feel that you and I are compatible personality types and..." She interrupted his rambling tirade by pressing her thumb to his lips and running her fingers across his cheek. They were so soft.

"You haven't lost your chance," she said soothingly. "I've been sitting in my apartment waiting for you to call all week. I guess I just got restless." She moved her hand to his hair and ran it through her fingers. Reid shivered at the sensation. "When you get back from your case, text me and let me know you're back. And then I'll call you and ask you out." Her cab pulled up and she moved to go inside, but she stopped halfway in the door. "And Derek and I haven't had sex," she added. "We just flirted." She got in the cab and waved as it pulled away.

Reid walked back inside, completely forgetting about his glasses. He ran his hand through his hair, remembering the feel of her fingers. When he got back to the office, Morgan was waiting for him.

"Listen, Reid, I just want to tell you not to be angry with Paige, it was all my fault..."

"You flirted with her, I know," said Reid. "She told me." Morgan looked surprised.

"Oh," said Morgan.

"She's going to call me when we get back from the case," said Reid. "I don 't want to sound egotistical, but it would seem that she prefers me, Carmello." Reid grabbed his bag and headed for the jet, not wanting to wait around. As he left he caught sight of JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia standing on the other side of Morgan. All three looked shocked, and he cursed inwardly as he realized they'd probably heard every word.

"Carmello," said Garcia thoughtfully. "That's a good one. I'll have to use that."

On the plane during the briefing both Reid and Morgan were oddly silent. Hotchner's patience was wearing thin as the two people most likely to come out with brilliant insights into the unsub's mind didn't say a word. As the plane landed four hours later in Missouri, Hotchner told both Morgan and Reid to stay behind.

"What's going on here?" asked Hotch. "Something is going on between you two and I want to know what it is. Now." Slowly and with much hesitation, Reid and Morgan told him what was happening. Hotch listened with a stern face. In the end, Hotch hung his head.

"Are you telling me that the reason that the two of you aren't focusing on catching a killer is because both of you are dating the same woman?" His tone was furious and disbelieving. He looked back up at the two agents and Reid felt genuinely intimidated by Hotchner for the first time.

"This is what's going to happen," said Hotch. "The two of you are going to put this behind you and focus on the case. And I forbid both of you from seeing this Paige girl in the future. Since she has only been in the area a couple weeks and has already caused havoc in this unit, I'm telling both of you to stay away from her, or lose your jobs, since you seem to have lost your ability to work." Hotch stood up abruptly and left the jet, leaving two stunned and wounded agents behind him.


	14. Chapter 14 Paige's POV

**Hello Lady and Gentlemen Readers, this is your author speaking: (sorry I always wanted to say that)**

**Let me start by saying that I hope you had a wonderful holiday! I also want to thank you because if you're reading this then you've read this far and I appreciate anyone who reads my work. I also want to gently remind you that I love reviews, even if they're just one liners, like "I think you don't have Reid's character quite right," or "Your syntax needs work." Whatever it is, I'll be delighted to read it. **

**So if you don't mind, please come out of lurkdom...just for a little while and tell me what you think so that I can improve my writing. Just so you know this is my first fanfiction ever, and I want to write more in the future. **

**Thank you, **

**Stephanie**

Paige

Two weeks went by. I didn't hear anything from Spencer or from Derek. In other words, I was miserable. Every day was a torture of wondering. I wondered whether they were back from their case and if they'd made it home safe. I wondered if they were both back safe and sound and just forgot about me. Mostly I wondered if my spontaneous date with Derek had caused Spencer to decide not to talk to me.

My internship was both wonderful and awful. They were finally letting me do actual work, like proof-reading articles before they were sent to the editor and they had even promised that I would get to write my own story sometime in the future. The problem was that I wasn't at all happy with anything going on in my life. For some reason my life just wasn't complete. I went to work every day with a heavy heart and bags under my eyes. I just didn't enjoy my internship like I should have been.

One day during my lunch hour I was sitting outside on a bench under a tree just trying to absorb the sunshine. I leaned back and propped myself up on my hands. I closed my eyes and felt the sunshine on my face, trying to keep some of it for myself. I felt the bench next to me settle under someone's weight, and I opened my eyes in surprise. Sitting next to me was Penelope Garcia.

"Garcia," I said in surprise. "What are you doing here?" I watched in amazement as she picked up a sizable picnic basket and started handing me food. I sat stunned as she gave me a plate of cookies and a platter of sandwiches.

"I'm here to see you, pumpkin," she said cheerfully. "Steve told me that you have been down in the dumps for the last week and a half and the best way to cure that is with delicious food, hence why I'm here." She took out a bottle of whiskey and set it on the table. "And if the food doesn't work, the whiskey will do the trick." I wanted to giggle but I settled on a smile.

"Garcia, this is wonderful but you didn't have to do this," I said.

"Oh but Chicky I did. I also have something to tell you." She opened up the whiskey bottle and held it out to me.

"What? No! I'm at work I can't drink." She held out the bottle more firmly.

"Trust me darlin', you're gonna need this." I hesitantly took the bottle and took a shot from it, then put it back in her outstretched hand.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Eat a cookie," she said holding one out to me. I was fed up at this point.

"No, thank you," I said firmly. "Please just tell me what you came here to tell me." She sighed.

"Reid and Morgan were acting weird around each other at the beginning of the last case. They weren't talking and weren't focusing on the briefing. So...Agent Hotchner told them that if they want to keep their jobs...then neither of them can ever contact you again." It took a moment for the impact of her words to hit me. When they did it was a painful blow. My eyes filled up with tears and I turned away, trying not to let Garcia see.

"Oh, sweetheart don't cry," she said soothingly. "Maybe this is for the best." I looked at her incredulously.

"How?" I asked.

"Well this will give you a chance to find a man that isn't off on cases every couple days and one that will put you as his first priority and not serial killers. The men in the BAU aren't usually lucky with love because the women they love want them around." I nodded, wiping tears from my cheeks.

"I guess you're right," I said. "But I was willing to overlook that for Spencer." Garcia looked shocked.

"You were going to choose Spencer?" I nodded. "Not that stone cold fox that is Derek Morgan?" I shook my head.

"He is a very nice guy...and very attractive," Garcia snorted at my understatement. "But Spencer and I have a connection I've never had with anyone else. I'm worried I'll never find that with anyone else."

"Do you love him?" asked Garcia. I shrugged.

"I haven't had the chance to find out," I said sadly. Garcia looked sympathetic and patted my arm. She handed me the plate of cookies.

"Eat these," she counseled. "Cookies always make things better." I tried to smile and took them from her.

"Thank you for coming here and telling me Garcia," I said. "It would have been worse not knowing." She packed up her picnic basket and left. I nibbled on a cookie and wondered what I should do. Should I go back to the life I had before I met those two agents? Should I fight to keep them or would they be better off without me? I went back inside to my job confused and overwhelmed.

I worked hard for the rest of the day, even though I was physically and emotionally exhausted. The editor I was interning for could tell something was wrong. He came up to me as I was leaving.

"You worked hard today," he said. "Even though I can tell you aren't feeling well. Why don't you take tomorrow off?" Not wanting to argue, I just nodded and walked out to the parking lot.

The next day I woke up and something had changed in my mindset. The first part was that I had actually slept well for once, probably just out of sheer exhaustion. As I lay in bed with my eyes closed I contemplated what to do. Part of me, and it was a small part, wanted to pack up and head back to Maine. Part of me wanted to stay and just finish my internship and try to forget about Spencer. However that seemed just as unappealing. Suddenly, I realized what I wanted to do.

I got up and took a long hot shower, which calmed my nerves and relaxed my tense muscles. When I got out I styled my hair, blow drying it into big waves. I applied my makeup with extra care and slid on a black pencil skirt, a white shirt with ruffles on the front, and black kitten heels. When I was ready I grabbed my purse and caught a cab. I told the cab driver the BAU's address and it didn't take long for us to get there. The entire drive I was second guessing myself, wondering if this truly was the best course of action.

I got out and paid the driver, then I took out my press pass and took a deep breath. I squared my shoulders and walked into the building, trying to look like I owned it. It worked mostly, I didn't get any questioning looks except from the security guard, who checked my press pass and then let me in. It took me some looking around to find the BAU department, but find it I did.

I breezed through the glass doors separating it from the main building. I walked right through the main lobby, trying not to notice that Prentiss, JJ, Derek and Spencer were all watching me walk by, utterly bewildered.

"Didn't Hotch tell you not to contact her anymore?" I heard Prentiss murmur to Derek.

"I didn't," I heard him say, sounding surprised. I walked up the stairs and down the hall to Agent Hotchner's office. I knocked sharply on the closed door, and he opened it after a moment.

"Can I help you?" he asked. I cleared my throat.

"Agent Hotchner may I have a word with you please?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't shake. I showed him my press pass as explanation. He looked over my shoulder.

"I don't usually talk to the press," he said. "Your boss must know that. What makes you think I'll talk to you?" My heart was pounding so hard that I was shaking.

"Well," I stuttered, "My name is Paige Stewart." I stiffened my spine and looked him in the eye. Sure, the man could intimidate serial killers, but I wouldn't let him intimidate me. He hesitated, looking over my shoulder, I'm assuming at the agents in the lobby who were probably still watching me.

"Come in," he said, stepping back and holding the door open. I walked in and sat down in the slightly uncomfortable chair across from his desk. "You aren't really here as a reporter are you?" he asked, sitting down across from me and smoothing his tie. I shook my head.

"No, Agent Hotchner. I'm here to talk to you man to man...so to speak." He didn't even crack a smile. I cleared my throat and continued. "It has come to my attention that you have forbidden both Spencer and Derek from contacting me or else they will lose their jobs."

"That is correct," he said. "However, I'm wondering how you came to know this." He raised his eyebrows at me and I blushed, but persevered.

"You told Derek and Spencer that they couldn't contact me," I said. "You didn't say anything about the rest of the team." This time, I thought he did crack a smile, but only for a moment.

"So why did you come to see me today?" he asked. "Did you think you could change my mind?"

"Actually I just came here to tell you that the best chance Spencer has at happiness is with me. So I wanted to tell you that by forbidding him to contact me you've basically guaranteed that he won't be happy for the rest of his life." I stood up and brushed off my skirt preparing to leave. I turned toward the door.

"Wait," said Hotchner. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. "You really think that Reid will be happy with you?" he asked. I nodded. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, obviously thinking. "He deserves to be happy," he said, thinking out loud.

"Yes he does," I said softly. He looked at me, as if assessing me.

"You realize that he won't be home all the time," he said. My heart lifted.

"Yes, I know," I said.

"He's always going to put his job first," he warned me. "That won't ever change." He looked very concerned about this. I assumed it was a personal problem he had dealt with.

"That's what I admire about him," I said. "He saved me once. How could I keep him from saving lives?" He nodded, as if to himself.

"Well...who am I to come between the two of you?" he asked. I smiled and had to stop myself from jumping up and down in happiness. "But there are conditions," he said. "You have to promise not to come between him and his work, and not to leave him solely for the reason that you resent his job."

"I promise," I said sincerely. "Is that what happened to you?" He looked at me again, I assumed with his profiler eyes. It felt like he was x-raying me emotionally.

"You're very perceptive," he said, sounding surprised. I shrugged.

"That's what Spencer says," I commented. He seemed to smile again. He stood up and walked around the desk. He extended his hand, which I shook.

"Well I wish you two the best of luck," he said. "I hope that you can pull him through the dark things he has to witness." I nodded solemnly. Suddenly I felt a strange urge, and despite my better judgment, gave in to it. I stepped forward and hugged him gently. I could feel his surprise in his tense muscles, but after a moment, he hugged me back.

"Thank you," I said genuinely. "You won't regret this." Then I stepped out of the hug, opened his office door and walked out of the building, past the agents who were staring after me like I had three heads. I smiled as I pushed through the glass doors. Hopefully all was now right with the world.


	15. Chapter 15 Reid's POV then Paige's POV

Reid

Reid watched as Paige swept out of the room, completely ignoring him. He was so confused, what was going on? He looked back up towards Hotch's office, trying to get a hint. He saw Hotch standing in the doorway, also watching Paige leave. Was that...a smile on his face? It couldn't be. The agents around him were buzzing with conversation.

"I can see why both you and Reid liked her," commented Rossi. "She sure was good-looking." Morgan chuckled.

"Yeah she is. She's a real sweetheart too. I wonder what she was doing here."

"You'd think she'd be here to see you, Reid," said JJ quietly at his elbow.

"You'd think," agreed Reid softly. The more he wondered what Paige and Hotch had talked about the more he had to know. A determination filled him. "I'm going to go find out," he said and started walking toward the office. The agents behind him looked at each other, then followed at a safe distance.

Reid knocked on the door to Hotch's office, wondering if this was a bad idea. However, he just had to know how Paige was. It had been torture the last week, wishing he could talk to her and not being able to.

"Come in Reid," said Hotch. Reid sighed and shook his head. Sometimes he resented the others' abilities to profile him. He cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. "I'm assuming you're here to find out what Paige wanted," said Hotch, not even looking up from what he was writing at his desk. Reid cleared his throat nervously.

"Yes," he said. "I would like to know." Hotch looked up, and Reid thought he could detect a little happiness in his face that hadn't been there twenty minutes ago.

"She wanted you, Reid," he said. "She came here to persuade me to let you contact her." Reid was confused and flattered.

"She didn't say anything about Morgan?" he asked carefully, almost dreading the answer. Hotch shook his head.

"Not a word," said Hotch. "She only wanted you." Reid's heart seemed to be lodged in his throat.

"And did she...persuade you Sir?" he asked. Hotch looked back down at his desk.

"She's a great girl, Reid," he said. "She's smart, beautiful, funny...and she seems to care about you a lot, considering she confronted me like she did. I think you'll be very happy together." Reid was flooded with feelings he didn't know how to deal with. He cleared his throat again, trying to dislodge the lump there.

"She didn't even say anything when she left," he mused to himself.

"That was probably because she was honoring our agreement," said Hotch. Reid looked up, surprised.

"Agreement?"

"She agreed not to interfere with your work...and a couple other things...in exchange for letting you be with her." Reid waited for more explanation, but received none. "My advice," said Hotch, "is to call her. You're dismissed." Reid blinked, then turned around and left.

Just outside the door, the rest of the agents were waiting with expectant faces. Reid fought the urge to laugh.

"So?" said Prentiss. "What did Paige want?" Reid smiled. Garcia giggled and clapped her hands.

"Ooh that means she stood up to Hotch and took Reid back! I knew Home-girl would do the right thing!" All eyes turned to Garcia. She looked guilty. "Not...that I had anything to do with it...," she stuttered. The door to Hotch's office opened.

"Garcia," said Hotch, sticking his head out. "Can I see you in my office?" Garcia smiled sheepishly at the agents.

"Gotta go get scolded," she said cheerfully and practically skipped into the office. Most of the agents went back to their jobs then, except for Morgan and Reid. The two agents looked at each other, awkwardness filling the space between them.

"Look, Man," said Morgan. "I'm sorry I scammed on your girl. You just didn't seem to be makin' a move on her...So I thought I would. She's just so sweet, ya know?" Reid was in such a good mood, he was willing to forgive the older agent. He clamped Morgan on the shoulder in a brotherly way.

"Don't worry about it Morgan," Reid said. He started to walk away, then thought better of it and turned around. "Just don't ever do it again," he said roughly and turned on his heel to walk away.

Paige

I paced my apartment, waiting until I knew that the agents had gone home for the day. I had a plan in mind, but I was still uncertain if I had the nerve. I wondered if I had used it all up confronting Hotch. Finally making up my mind, I changed into a simple low-cut t-shirt and jeans, freshened my makeup and caught a cab, giving the driver Spencer's address from the letters he'd sent.

I got out of the cab and paid the driver hesitantly, still not sure if I could do it. However when the driver pulled away, I knew it was now or never. I walked up the steps to his house and knocked on the door, my heart pounding. I heard footsteps behind the door, and a moment later the door opened. I turned and almost gasped out loud.

Spencer had obviously just gotten out of the shower. He was shirtless, and his hair was still wet. He held a toothbrush in one hand, and he looked very surprised to see me. He also looked damn attractive.

"Paige," he said. "Hi!"

"Hi Spencer," I said shyly. "Can I come in?" He nodded and stepped back to give me room. I walked in and looked around curiously. His house didn't seem to have much furniture, or any decoration, really. He cleared his throat.

"I'm gonna go...um..." he looked down at his bare chest. I followed his eyes and lost myself for a moment. I finally looked back up to see he'd been watching me stare at him. He smiled knowingly and I blushed.

"That's okay," I said. "I just wanted to ask you something, and then I'll go," I said, a little too quickly. He looked disappointed, and I felt more optimistic.

"What do you want to ask?" I took a deep breath.

"I came here because...I want to know how you feel about me." He tried to speak but I cut him off. I didn't think I could say what I came to say if I didn't get it all out at once.

"I feel this connection with you that I've never felt with anyone else, and it scared me because I've never felt that way before and I didn't know if it was because you rescued me or because I felt guilty about hurting you so I tried going out with Derek and he was great but I didn't feel about him the way I feel about you and you didn't call so I didn't think you wanted to see me and..."

He silenced me by stepping forward and crushing my lips with his, taking me by surprise and pressing my body against the door. His wet, half-naked body trapped mine against the door as he kissed me. He was surprisingly aggressive...and I liked it. He kissed me until I was breathless, then gently pulled away.

"I love you too," he said softly. I opened my mouth to say something...I didn't know what because he silenced me again with another kiss, a softer one this time. "No more talking," he said. I looked into his eyes and saw a desire that scared and thrilled me at the same time.

"Spencer..." I breathed. He took it as an invitation and kissed me again, slowly. I ran my hands up his bare chest, up his neck and tangled my fingers in his hair returning his kiss. I gently tugged on his hair, pulling him closer, soliciting a moan from him. Oh. Well that was something. This man liked a little pain with his pleasure.

He slid his hands under my shirt and he tugged it off. I shivered to feel his bare skin against mine. He pulled me against him and sliding his fingers into my hair he gently tugged my head back and started to kiss my neck, nipping it with his teeth gently. I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation.

"Bedroom," I murmured, and before I knew what was happening he had tucked my legs around his waist and lifted me up into his arms. "Wow," I said as he carried me to his bedroom. "You're stronger than you look."

"You have no idea," he said with a sexy smile, and kicked the door closed behind him.


	16. Chapter 16 Morgan's POV

**Hey everyone, **

**This chapter was inspired by my twin sister, who thought of the concept by saying "Wouldn't it be funny if..." so thanks, Sis. **

**Hope you all are enjoying the fic! I need your help to decide whether or not I want to continue it. It could bes over very soon...or I could add some more dramatic situations for Paige and Spencer to deal with. You guys let me know. Sorry this chapter is so short, but I haven't decided where to go with it after this. Happy reading!**

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Morgan

Morgan sat at his desk, drumming against the hard surface with a pen, staring off into space. JJ had called him in for a case, which they needed to leave for as soon as possible. The only reason they were still there was because Reid hadn't arrived yet, nor had he answered his cell phone, even though they'd left him a half-dozen messages now.

He surged to his feet, his anxiety not allowing him to sit still. Reid had never failed to answer his phone before. Reid had so many enemies and they'd gone after him before. What if the reason he wasn't answering the phone was because he was in trouble? The expressions on Prentiss's and Rossi's faces said that they were thinking the same thing.

"Let's go over to his house," said Morgan out loud. "If he just overslept or something we can wake him up. Something just doesn't feel right."

"I'm in," said Prentiss.

"So am I," said Rossi.

"Um, guys," said Garcia. "Let's think about this for a second..." Morgan shook his head.

"He could be in danger, Garcia. There's no time to waste." He grabbed his gun out of his desk drawer and strapped it onto his waist. He slid on his bulletproof vest and headed for the door.

"I'm serious," said Garcia. "I don't think he's..." but she watched as the three agents had already left. "Oh no," she said. "Reid's not gonna like this."

The three agents arrived at his house. Everything looked normal, there wasn't a sign of forced entry. They approached the house guns drawn, their feet silent on the steps. They found the door unlocked and entered soundlessly, checking around all the corners and nodding to each other when they were all clear.

The three agents suddenly heard Reid's voice, moaning as if he were in pain. They looked at each other and nodded, pointing their guns at the door and starting towards it. They stopped just outside the door. Prentiss cocked her head at the door and looked pointedly at Morgan. Morgan nodded, knowing just what she wanted.

He kicked the door down with one swift kick and immediately charged into the room followed by Prentiss and Rossi. He heard a very feminine scream, even for Reid. He caught a glimpse of Reid's bare back for a moment, which was crisscrossed with red lines that looked like fingernail scratches. Reid turned around and pointed a gun he'd snatched from his bedside table and pointed it at Morgan, his chest heaving.

"Reid," said Morgan, still checking the corners for potential intruders. "Are you okay?" He looked at Reid and immediately dropped his gun down. Reid's face was both furious and embarrassed.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Reid practically yelled. "What's going on?" For the first time Morgan saw Paige's face peeking out from under Reid's elbow. She was hurriedly wrapped in a sheet, barely covering her naked body. Morgan realized that they'd made a terrible mistake. He looked to his sides and saw that Prentiss and Rossi had holstered their guns, and were looking anywhere but at the bed containing the two naked lovers. Suddenly, Paige started to laugh. Everyone turned to look at her, bewildered, even Reid.

"Hotch...told me that your job...would interfere with our...love life," she said between laughter. "I just didn't realize...that he meant...like this..." She doubled over, laughing hysterically. Prentiss started to chuckle, shortly followed by Rossi. Soon everyone was laughing. After a few moments it died down.

"So...this is why you weren't answering your phone?" asked Morgan, an amused smile still tugging at his mouth. "Because you were too...ahem...'busy' with Paige?" Reid's face turned beet red. "You dog!" he said approvingly.

"I didn't hear it," said Reid. "I think I left it in the other room."

"I have an idea," said Paige cheerfully. "How about the three of you skip out for a moment, and try to prop up the door the best you can, and Spencer and I can put clothes on?" Morgan grinned sheepishly and left, standing the door up so that it mostly covered the doorway.

They waited patiently in the living room, the agents mostly too embarrassed to talk. Morgan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and opened it.

"Morgan," he answered.

"Hey Hot-stuff," said Garcia. "Did you find Reid?"

"Yeah," he said ashamedly. "You knew what was going to happen didn't you?"

"If what happened was that you interrupted Reid and Paige in their love-nest and completely embarrassed yourselves, then yes. I knew what was going to happen."

"I should have realized," he said. "I guess it just never occurred to me. I mean...it's Reid." Just then he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see Paige, who didn't look very amused. "Uh, Garcia, I have to go."

"Tell her if she kills you I will need another Chocolate Fox to replace you," said Garcia, and she hung up. Paige was staring daggers at him with her arms crossed.

"Explanation," she demanded.

"JJ called us in," said Morgan. "When Reid didn't come in or answered his phone we thought something happened to him. So we came looking for him." Reid came out of the bedroom, dressed in his usual slacks and dress shirt. Morgan looked at him with wide eyes.

"Reid..." said Prentiss. "Are those...hickeys on your neck?" Reid's hand went to his neck, self-consciously. Paige blushed.

"You might want to wear a scarf today," said Rossi, snickering.

"So there's a case?" asked Reid, trying to change the subject. Morgan nodded.

"We need to leave right away," he said. "Do you have your go-bag?" Reid nodded and picked up the black duffel bag by the door. "Let's go," said Morgan. He headed towards the door. Prentiss and Rossi started to follow, but Reid hung back. He took Paige's hand and pulled her towards him, kissing her passionately. Morgan tried not to stare. It was so unlike Reid.

"Be safe," he heard Paige say. "Or I'll be very upset at you." Her teasing smile belied her serious words.

"I will," said Reid. "Try and stay out of trouble." He kissed her again and then tore himself away to follow Morgan out the door. Morgan felt a twinge of regret and jealousy. They looked so happy together. He guessed that everything was pulling together in Reid's life...and he felt like his hadn't even started. He wished he could find someone like Paige, that would complete him that way.


	17. Chapter 17 Paige's POV

**Hello everyone, **

**So after much thinking, I finally decided that I'm going to save all the other adventures I dreamed up for Paige and Spencer for the... dun dun dun...SEQUEL! This will be the last chapter for this story. So in celebration of completing "Tortured Expression" I made the last chapter out of pure fluffy fluffness. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Also if you feel like it, message me some title ideas for the sequel...**

**Love you all and thanks for reading! **

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Paige

Spencer was gone on his case for six whole days. Each day that went by was tortuously long and seemed to be extremely boring in comparison. I went to my job at the newspaper every day and worked hard, but that didn't seem to be as important as it used to be. Half of my mind was always with Spencer, wondering if he was close to solving the case, and if he was safe.

On the sixth day I got a well-deserved day off. I was restless and fidgety. I had no idea how to spend my time except worry about Spencer, and that was driving me crazy. So I busied myself doing things around my apartment. I cleaned and scrubbed and organized everything I had. When I couldn't think of anything else to clean, I felt like cooking.

I went to the grocery store and bought enough ingredients to feed me for a while. When I got back to my apartment I made a bunch of meals that I could freeze and heat up later. I also baked cookies and made a cake, just out of sheer boredom.

By the end of the day, I had run out of things to cook and clean. I showered, changed into a tank top and shorts, and sat down with a bowl of salad to watch TV. Part of me wanted to watch crime shows, but I was wise enough not to watch them. They made me paranoid for Spencer's safety. I finally put in one of my favorite DVDs, a gooey romantic chick flick. I ordinarily didn't watch that type of movie, but for some reason I needed a little romance to cheer me up.

The movie had just started when I heard a knock on my door. I paused the movie and walked to the door, looking through the peep-hole. A huge smile spread over my face and I quickly unlocked the door and threw it open. I stepped forward and hugged Spencer around his waist, resting my head on his chest. He cupped my chin in his hand and pulled my lips to his for a kiss that warmed me down to my toes.

"Hi, Paige," he said sweetly. I released him and took a step back. He was wearing slacks and a dress shirt like he usually wore to work and was carrying his black duffel bag. It looked like he had come here directly from the jet.

"Did you just arrive back?" I asked. He nodded. "You must be exhausted!" He shrugged.

"A bit," he said. "But I wanted to see you." I was very flattered, and very happy.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "I can make you dinner."

"Actually what I really need is a shower," he said. "Do you mind if I use yours?"

"Not at all," I said and showed him how it worked and where to find towels. While he was in the shower I warmed up some lasagna from my stash of pre-prepared foods, and mixed together a quick salad. When he came out he was wearing just a thin white t-shirt and sweatpants, but he was almost the sexiest I'd ever seen him. Sure, he looked attractive as hell in his work clothes, but when he was dressed casually I wanted to jump him. I controlled myself though, sadly.

"Here, have some dinner," I said, and he sat at the table looking surprised.

"Did you just make this?" he asked. I laughed and thought about telling him that I had, just to make him wonder how.

"No, I make all my meals ahead of time and freeze them so I can just warm something up if I'm hungry." He smiled.

"That's very logical of you," he said approvingly. He took a bite of the lasagna. "Mm," he said. "This is delicious!" I felt proud of myself. It might be kind of old fashioned for a woman to like cooking for her man, but I liked it nonetheless. After he'd eaten we sat in front of the TV and watched the rest of my DVD. He sat with his arm around me, and I cuddled into his chest. The movie was sappy and filled with drama and romance. At the end of the movie, neither of us moved from our comfortable embrace.

"That movie was highly unrealistic and very predictable," he said. "But entertaining, I guess." I smiled.

"Sometimes I like unrealistic movies. They let you escape from reality." I could feel his nod, though I couldn't see it.

"I like this," he said after a moment. "Eating dinner together, watching a movie. It's very...normal." I chuckled.

"I guess you don't get enough normal in your life huh?" I said.

"No," he said, and he sounded regretful. "I've always been abnormal." I sat up and looked into his eyes.

"If you were normal," I said, "you wouldn't be you. And I like you the way you are." He smiled shyly.

"I like you too," he said. It was funny how, one moment he could be so self-assured and confident and the next be shy and quiet. He was just too adorable for words.

"Despite my abnormalities?" I teased.

"Yes," he said sincerely, and I laughed. I got up from the couch and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "I didn't upset you did I?" I laughed again.

"I'm going to bed," I said. "Want to join me?" His brow furrowed and he looked at his watch.

"It's still early," he said, sounding confused. "Are you tired?" I sighed and rolled my eyes. He was so smart, and yet so endearingly clueless. I walked back to the couch and straddled his lap, kissing him and running my fingers through his hair. I slid my hands under his shirt and slowly felt my way upward, tracing the contours of his chest carefully. I pulled away slightly and looked at him.

"I'm going to bed," I repeated. "Want to join me?" He smiled and I could tell he understood now.

"Yes, please," he said politely, and I took his hand and led him to bed.

Afterward, we lay wrapped together, surrounded by tangled sheets. My head rested on his chest and he was stroking my hair gently. I felt so relaxed and happy, and I was starting to fall asleep.

"You talk in your sleep you know," he said quietly. I turned my head so I could see his face.

"I do?" I said, mortified. "What do I say?"

"Nothing embarrassing," he said quickly. "And I've only heard you say something once." I waited for the story.

"Remember when we were in the hospital after...well, you know," I knew. "You had talked to me and Morgan, and then the nurse gave you some pain killers and you had fallen asleep. Morgan and I were talking, about a few things, and Morgan said 'Get some sleep now. We've got a long drive to the airport and then a long plane ride back to Virginia.'" I should have been surprised that he knew the exact words that Derek had said, but I wasn't. "I heard you roll over," he continued "And then you said 'Spencer, don't leave me."

"I said that?" I asked, now even more mortified. "You said it was nothing embarrassing!" He shrugged and smiled at me.

"I didn't think it was embarrassing," he said. "I thought it was sweet. That's why I decided to write you that note. I wouldn't have had the confidence to if I hadn't known that you liked me back, just a little." I thought my heart was going to melt.

"So...you liked me back then?" I asked. He nodded.

"I've wanted to be with you almost as soon as I met you," he said. "It just took me a while to admit it to myself, and even longer to do something about it."

"To be fair," I said. "I did most of the heavy lifting on getting us together." He chuckled.

"Yeah," he admitted. He kissed the top of my head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said cheerfully. I snuggled back into his chest and felt myself drifting off to sleep. If I had any luck, I would talk to him in my sleep to tell him not to leave me.


End file.
